Life Bargains
by Sycophantism
Summary: When a certain swindler is charged for his involvement with the Decepticons, he escapes the imminent offlining looming above his head and crash-lands on Earth. Unbeknown to him, the best bounty hunter in the galaxy is hot on his trail...
1. Break Out

**Title:** "Life Bargains"

**Summary:** _When a certain swindler is charged for his involvement with the Decepticons, he escapes the imminent offlining looming above his head and crash-lands on Earth. Unbeknown to him, the best bounty hunter in the galaxy is hot on his trail..._

**Rating:** M (_Violence, Language, Gore, Explicit Content_)

**Authors Note:** I'll outline the general storyline for you all; It's mostly Movie-'Verse, but there's some Transformers Animated added in there... There are certain aspects of the Transformers world that Bay, the director of the movies, just didn't include. The Elite Guard, certain characters, and other little things will be added. Which is why this will be in both the Transformers Movie category _and_ the Transformers Animated category.  
Hope you all enjoy.

* * *

"Under the charges of stealing highly dangerous equipment from the Elite Guard, building lethal machines constructed for the main purpose of destroying Cybertronian beings, and illegally negotiating with exclusive Decepticon individuals, your sentence shall be decided by the jury that the Elite Guard themselves have chosen for the case.

"Do you have any questions, objections, or defenses you would like to vocalize? If so, please do so now."

The Cybertronian in question kept his head ducked low, shadows covering his facial plates. His weapons had been relieved of him, those built in being put into lock-down for the immediate safety of the court.

The stasis-cuffs kept his hands bound in front of him, his fingers splayed and his palms facing the ground. His pedes were shoulder-length apart and facing forward. The way his guards had told him to stand. A prisoner.

His shoulders were hunched a bit, helping hide his expression from those around him; the jury, to his right, floating in their box seats and staring at him; the small audience that had appeared, sitting behind him in their own floating box, larger than the jury's to accommodate for the larger number of people; and the Elite Guard themselves, floating in front of him, their curved table helping them all sit and watch him in silence.

In the middle of the curve, not sitting, was the Autobot in charge of reading his charges and rights, Landmine. This was an Autobot that did things right, the accused knew all too well. He'd been the same 'Bot to capture the defendant that he was now speaking to, making sure his words were said clearly and properly.

He was going to make sure that this Decepticon-wannabe was offline before the next Groon was done, whatever it took.

A thick silence fell over the collected Cybertronians, covering each of them like a perfectly fitted blanket. There were a few frowns shared amongst the jury, and a few scowls and glares from the Elite Guard themselves.

Growling quietly, Landmine spoke once more, "Do you have any—"

"No."

The word broke in so smoothly, so sharply that it took a moment for the word to be fully processed, the surprise of speech being hard to surpass after the Breems of silence. The accused had blatantly refused to speak, remaining silent throughout the entire reading, the accusations, and the snide remarks passed by behind him.

"… Then, the jury will take this time to go over the charges and decide your punishment."

There were a few murmurs behind the shackled Cybertronian, and he felt a sharp scowl touch his dark features. Purple optics stared at the ground, burning with hatred and rage. His arms trembled slightly as he slowly clenched his fists, forcing them not to shake any more than they already were.

His Spark churned with cold fury, his optics narrowed with vehemence. Violence ravaged his Spark, making him crave the screams of pain and fear from the Autobots trialing him. Made him wish for their Energon staining his frame, rolling down his paint job lazily as he stood over their ravaged exoskeletons, laughing down at them…

His eyes snapped halfway shut as he tightened his fists, clenching his jaw shut as his entire body twitched with the joint actions. He couldn't die here. He just couldn't, it wasn't an option…

There was a low sound of a vocalizer being cleared, and he loosened his body, his palms once more facing the ground, his optics shuttering. He heard a small whirring sound as a data pad was passed between the announcer and the leader of the jury.

Taking a moment to read it, Landmine let his optics scan the result, and couldn't help but smirk.

The expression didn't pass by the defendant, his optics narrowing with animosity at the smug grin.

"By order of the jury selected by the Elite Guard," he called out, "the accused Cybertronian is sentenced to be offlined in seven Breems, at the official jail of the Cybertron Elite Guard."

He dimmed his audio receivers, coolant washing gently through him as he stared numbly at the ground. _Offlined_. In such little time…

He heard that it was public, anyone could come to watch his execution. _They are such morbid beings, no matter what they say_, he thought bitterly, cursing them all.

A loud sound from outside made the room fall silent, and he finally lifted his head, optics bright as he turned his audio receivers to full.

There was an amazing lull over those present as the accused stared at the wall.

"_-Run.-"_

The wall exploded inwards, making several Cybertronians cry out in surprise, and for those close enough to said wall, fear. He felt a jolt, taking a step back as a piece of debris flew at him.

The stasis-cuffs keeping his feet attached to the platform made him freeze, his optics widening in shock and abrupt, unexplainable fear as the piece of wall closed the distance…

It spun abruptly, shooting to the side as a small silver form shot down, a small blur of red hinting the criminal to who it was. He unfroze, quickly crouching and holding his wrists out.

The feline-shaped Decepticon hissed quietly, but his eye glowed and he lashed out with his claws, leaving a deep gouge, as well as a small transmitter, on the cuffs. He repeated the motion with those attaching his ankles to the ground, and a small red light began to flash silently on the transmitters.

The cuffs abruptly shut down, the small yellow glow that had kept him bound retracting into the metal cuffs. He ripped them off, stepping out of the ones on his feet, turning his optics immediately to his savior.

"Escape to Earth," the Decepticon snarled, the red optic on his face darting around, taking in every detail. Another explosion had blown out two of the walls, the entire audience having rushed out in a hurry. The jury was trying to collect itself, one of the explosions having come from directly behind it and sending two of them into Stasis Lock.

The Elite Guard had put its barriers up, however, and were the first to notice that it was an escape attempt; "Landmine, the prisoner!"

The Autobot spun away from the jury, optics widening as he saw the Decepticon whirl around, baring its long fangs at him.

"_Go_!" the Decepticon snarled, casting one last look at the former prisoner before lunging at the announcer, knocking him down.

He needed no extra motivation, running to the hole in the wall that had been the first distraction and jumping onto the broken remains. He looked through, saw the familiar buildings of Tyger Pax, and scowled darkly.

"_-Proceed East.-_"

"­_-Why are you helping me?-_" he transmitted back quickly, not wanting to lose the line. He managed to run a few steps before the images around him wavering, shimmering like a mirage before breaking down into data streams, then vanishing.

A door appeared in front of him, and he dashed for it, hearing the shouts of the Autbots behind him.

"_-Continue through the door and out of the hologram room. Turn left.-_"

He didn't repeat his question, concentrating on the directions as he burst through the door seconds after the small green light lit up. Immediately, the alarms went off, and he narrowed his optics as he glared to the side, where motion suddenly erupted.

"_-Move!-_"

The Decepticon again, the one that had saved him. He glanced back to see the feline running towards him over the hologram room's floor, barking the same order aloud as he skid out of the room, baring his fangs at the guards, giving them sudden second thoughts.

He pelted down the hall, never giving a second thought to the Decepticon that was covering his back.

"_-Turn right up ahead, and another left will bring you to the hangar. It's empty.-_"

"Why are you helping me!?" he shouted aloud, the transmission breaking once more before he even got a word across. _Damn it_!

He skid to the right, a startled gasp escaping him as a familiar Autobot stood before him. "Prowl—"

"Glad to be recognized amongst Decepticon scum," the warrior growled, his hands already wielding his gun, aimed promptly between the purple optics of the possible escapee.

"Hey, Auto-idiot!"

A small form suddenly jumped onto the Autobot's back, giving him a start before he shouted in surprise, spinning around in an attempt to dislodge the small Decepticon.

Rumble clung onto the Cyber-ninja's back, prying the panel off his back and reaching in with a devious grin, grabbing a handful of wires. Prowl gave a shout of surprise and dread before the wires were torn out, sending him to the ground, optics offline, his entire program in recharge.

The small cassette stood up with his prize, the wires from the Autobot warrior's programming, and grinned up at the prisoner, making him step back uneasily. "C'mon, this way."

The small Decepticon ran off down the hall and, with a start, he realized he recognized the small Cybertronian, and ran after him.

After the left, a huge door loomed in front of him, making him slam on the brakes to avoid crushing the small 'Con in front of him.

"Come on Soundwave, we don't have the whole Orbital Cycle!" Rumble said, exasperated, and whether he was speaking over the communications link or just to the door, the escapee hadn't a clue.

Whichever it was, the door beeped and opened, revealing the empty hangar, just as promised. They both dashed in, the smaller one leading the way once more to the open doors of the Ark.

A large ship with the Decepticon's symbol stood idling in the doorway, a small form behind the wheel, waving frantically.

"_Where's Ravage_?" The voice echoed on the speakers of the small ship, and Rumble cast a glance at his follower, who glanced at the door and shrugged.

"_-Cool your hard drive, I'm coming,-_" the missing 'Con sent over with exasperation and, soon enough, he loped into the room, optic flickering as the door slammed shut behind him, cutting off the unwanted posse that had followed him.  
"_-The three of you, get on the ship,­-_" Soundwave sent, the sound of typing coming over his transmission.

"Why are you helping me?" The odd-one out, the ex-prisoner, the accused, the escapee, he didn't know what to call himself now. He was getting tired of asking, but he didn't hesitate to rush up the ramp towards the Decepticon ship, ducking inside as Ravage pelted past him.

The door shut behind him with a secure _clang_, and he jumped a bit, glancing back at it. The ship started, engines rumbling to life, and he was pitched forward as it suddenly took off. He reached out, grabbing whatever was convenient, which in this case was air, and fell onto his hands and knees.

He felt the ship trembling under his palms as he pushed himself back and sat down, glancing around quickly.

Rumble sat on one of the seats obviously meant for a much larger Cybertronian, sharing his prize with Frenzy, who was no longer at the controls. Ravage, obviously content with his job well done, walked over to him, making him stare down apprehensively.

"Why are you—"

"You have potential use to us," Ravage cut in, sitting down as he stared up at the Cybertronian they had just broken out of imminent offlining. "Leaving you to be offlined wouldn't have been convenient for us, so we helped you escape."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, so finally just muttered an acknowledgement and stood up, grabbing the door for balance. "Where are you taking me?"

"_-Earth,-_" Soundwave's voice transmitted, and a small file was sent. Reluctantly, he opened it, gazing at the planet that he was being brought to.

"Why… Earth?" he asked slowly, opening the rest of the folder when he ran a quick diagnostic that came up without any viruses. The languages were listed, the level of evolution of the dominant species, lots of useless, stupid information he didn't need.

"_-The Elite Guard has of yet to acknowledge the presence of Earth, as well as the destruction of the All Spark.-_"

"The…" He looked gob-smacked before shouting, "The All Spark!? Destroyed…" He trailed off, suddenly falling into one of the seats next to Rumble and Frenzy, causing them to bounce a bit and cast him annoyed glares.

"_-Yes. They've chosen to keep it from the general public, being everyone they possibly can, until they discover a location of Energon.-_"

He shook his head quietly before sighing, lowering his head. "… When will we arrive?" he asked, a faint smirk in his tone. This caused Rumble and Frenzy to glance up, even catching Ravage's attention as he looked over.

"_-Such a change in attitude. What caused this?-_" Soundwave sounded curious, as much as he could with such an emotionless program.

"I looked into the World Wide Web you referred," he said quietly, his purple optics flickering off as he chuckled quietly. "And I found a nice list of the primitive equipment they use. I could easily make something that would destroy the Autobots without a doubt with their machinery…"

There was a soft chuckle over the line, making Ravage exchange a glance with the other two cassettes present. They shrugged, resuming their chattering about Prowl's wiring, quieter now.

"_-I'm sure you won't make me regret saving you,-_" Soundwave said, the touch of amusement still in his tone. "_-Swindle.-_"

The deceiver smirked, lifting his purple optics to stare at the Decepticon symbol inside the ship. "No," he said quietly, "I won't."

_But I'll make those Autobots regret ever trying to offline me_, he promised silently, the rage still churning coldly in his Spark. _I'll make them regret ever meeting me…_

* * *

A lone ship floated idly in the atmosphere of a deserted planet, empty of its single inhabitant at the moment.

The main room inside was stocked full of oddities, "trophies" that the one living there had gathered over the years from his many jobs. Armor, weapons, even programs he'd saved on hard disks were scattered about on the many floor-to-roof shelves in the room.

Two metal tables, each elevated at approximately seventy-five degrees, dominated the center of the room, able to move from one hundred and eighty degrees, so that their prisoner was facing the ground, or zero degrees, so they were facing the roof.

To the very left of the door, a rather large cage was situated, a small computer programmed into it so the bars could be electrocuted, or the actual cage could be separated to make two cages.

Between the cage and the wall, there was a small box, filled with several trays, each with the same equipment; torture devices, surgical items used to either interrogate a Cybertronian, or take them apart.

An entire wall was covered with the main computer, used for transmissions, logs, piloting the ship and other such things.

A small light flashed silently, just below the words that stated "_Incoming Transmission_". After a few more flashes, the light stopped flashing, and the room returned to blackness.

Planet-side, the lone occupant of the ship tilted his head up to stare at the red sky, a frown on his face before he sighed, lowering his head and gazing down at the red ground.

"… So much red," he commented, kicking a small red rock. A puff of orange dust bloomed, and he waved it away irritably, not wanting to get any into his joints.

He looked at the small screen built in to his left arm, reading over the information for the millionth time.

His target was a small Autobot communications officer that went by the name of Blurr. Extremely fast, in his actions _and_ his words, as well as a great source of interrogation, if information was what you wanted.

Of course, they always had Shockwave for that, but a problem had just come up. Blurr had suddenly decided to go on his own mission, after gaining some secret information about an apparent spy in the ranks of the Elite Guard.

And had decided not to tell Longarm Prime, his direct leader as well as Shockwave, the spy, about it.

Shockwave had ordered a simple bounty on Blurr; capture him, get what you know, and report. The end of the orders, whether it be kill him or release him, or "let him escape", would depend on the information he gained.

He heard quiet chattering and tilted his head, a faint smirk playing across his features as he walked towards the sounds. He soon found himself looking down a rather convenient cliff on his rather conveniently placed target.

The small blue Autobot was fidgeting around underneath the cliff, twitching faintly and suddenly vanishing, appearing a few feet to the side, before returning swiftly to where he had been.

"… Could be anyone but it couldn't be him but it could be _anyone_ but it just couldn't not _possibly_ be _him_, I would have noticed by now and no way a Decepticon could make it that far into the ranks—and not to mention someone'd noticed—if not them then—but he's loyal and it doesn't make sense, but why else would it say—or why would he be—maybe there's another explanation—but I can't ask him cause if it's _true_ then he'd _capture me_ and oh that's bad—but if I tell someone and I'm wrong then I'll get in trouble and _he_ might get in trouble…"

He shuttered his optics, turning his audio receivers down a bit at the frantic reasoning the Autobot was apparently going through. _Inward turmoil_, he mused to himself, taking a single step left and positioning himself above his prey.

A single dash right, then he would return to being just below his shadow…

He frowned for a moment, contemplated taking a step back, and didn't; it would bring attention to the rather conspicuous shaped shadow at the top of the cliff's…

"_Decepticon_!"

He sighed at the shriek, and a blue blur formed out of nowhere in his peripheral vision. With a low grunt, he jumped from the cliff, transforming into his alt form before taking off after his prey.

He activated the boosters that he'd selected from his trophies, the sudden lurch of speed making him grin.

The Autobot came into view, and he focused his sensors on the speedy little 'Bot, carefully aiming his EMP trophy at the communications officer.

A single shot made a scream of pain break through the silence of the planet, pitching the small blue form to the ground with an agonized jerk. He sped towards his target, shutting the boosters down before transforming without stopping, planting his heels in the ground and stopping right next to his stunned victim.

He smirked down at the widened optics of Blurr, as the small 'Bot gasped quietly and struggled into a sitting position, hurriedly scrambling back, bumping his back against a large red rock.

"Oh, now don't run," he said pleasantly, waving a hand dismissively as he walked over, standing directly above the 'Bot. His grin indicated otherwise though, urging the small communications officer to run, flee, dash, do whatever he could to escape.

Blurr gulped, his entire frame trembling slightly from the strong blast of EMP waves.

"W-w-what do you want from me, I d-didn't do anything wrong, wh-who are you—"

With an annoyed sound, the bounty hunter crouched, which made the young Autobot freeze mid-sentence before a hand was clamped over his mouth.

"Now why don't you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, and I won't pour Tyranium Acid into it?"

Blurr's optics widened with horror, his head shaking frantically. He smirked, pulling his hand away as the young comm. officer panted in a near-panic, optics darting around in an attempt to find escape.

His shakes faded as the pain did, the EMP blast only lasting so long. There was a sudden stop in his vision, and it took the hunter a moment to frown before the small 'Bot was suddenly gone.

He turned, smirking, amused, only to feel the grin freeze on his features.

Blurr stood behind him, not on the horizon as he had expected, but rather _right behind him_. He had a grip of something that looked suspiciously like a remote, and he was grinning. A single point up got the idea across, and he tilted his head upwards.

A small explosive was attached to the overhanging cliff, and he frowned at the small beeping that was coming from it.

"… Slag."

The explosion shook the ground for a good few miles, about seven Blurr would estimate, since he was four away from it when it went off a few seconds after he hit the button.

The rocks crumbled, falling down to a grimacing bounty hunter and making him vanish under the boulders.

Skidding to a stop, Blurr turned, staring as the orange dust rose in a lazy cloud around the spot he'd been at moments ago, faintly pleased with himself. He put the remote back into his arm, hesitated, then bolted off.

The smoke slowly settled over the mountain of rocks that covered the bounty hunter, more likely than not crushing his very frame out of shape on his cold, offline body.

A low beeping suddenly sounded, and a second, much quieter explosion went off, blowing the rocks right off of him and making them land a few feet away. He stood, brushing the dust off his frame, glaring daggers at it.

"… So much for staying clean," he growled quietly, scowling. All burn for the hunt had faded to a simple annoyance, making him lift his head and stare at the horizon silently. He transformed, speeding after his target once more.

With his boosters, it didn't take much time to catch up. He shut them off quickly, transforming mid-motion once more as he skid to a stop behind the small blue form. He frowned down at it, reaching down before narrowing his optics.

He leaped back seconds before the decoy went off, spinning around just in time to see Blurr race out from under a small overhang.

He transformed mid-air and took off after his target, managing to get just close enough to aim another EMP blast.

This time, he aimed properly, shooting the 'Bot's left leg.

Blurr's vocalizer went offline quickly, his silent scream echoing in his own mind as he went down hard, sliding along the reddish orange ground before he finally came to a slow stop.

He heard the motor of the hunter behind him and pushed onto his hand, looking back fearfully as he scrambled to his feet, taking a step before he toppled over with another silent yelp of pain.

Static crackled from his leg and he whimpered quietly as he brought his vocalizer back online, scrambling to his feet and limping off to the side as his tormentor caught up, changing out of his alt form with a satisfied smirk.

"L-leave me alone," Blurr pleaded, leaning against a thing that stuck out of the ground, something resembling a tree from the planet Earth.

"Now why would I do that," he murmured, approaching, "When you have such a nice bounty on your head?"

There was a flicker of something—hatred?—in the officer's optics before he grinned darkly and suddenly vanished, the gust of wind kicking up next to the hunter giving him a vague idea of what had happened.

Cursing, he spun around, expecting to see him behind him once more, only to find an empty horizon before him. Narrowing his eyes, he took a step back, scanning the area slowly, making sure not to miss anything.

He caught it just as he sensed it, spinning around. He threw his right arm, the blade that Blurr had produced clashing with the golden metal there, sparks jumping from the clash.

The Autobot managed to stay airborne, all his weight on the blade, before the hunter shoved him off, pushing him away and making him land a ways away.

He lunged at the small Autobot, EMP blaster aimed and ready. Blurr jumped to the side, detaching his blade and throwing it at the hunter, much to his surprise.

He stopped his lunge half-way, the blade stabbing directly into the ground in front of him. He spun around, blaster readied, only to find himself coming face-to-face to another of similar nature.

He narrowed his optics, as Blurr did, and charged his EMP blaster, each Cybertronian firing a blast of their own kind off.

Blurr jerked to the side, dodging the blast just in time, while his own shot hit the arm of his pursuer dead-on, causing him to grunt in pain. He felt a spark of hope as he spun away, ready to flee once more, before he was suddenly tackled down.

He cried out as he hit the ground, landing hard as the hunter pinned him down, grabbing his wrists and pushing them into the ground. He used his heavier frame against the Autobot, keeping his writhing body pinned to the ground without the use of extra appendages.

"Quit your squirming," he growled quietly in Blurr's audio receiver, tightening his grip on the blue wrists and gaining a quiet cry of pain. The writhing stopped, and he adjusted himself so he wasn't half-on, half-off. "Good job…"

"Let me go, you can't get away with this, the Elite Guard won't let you!" Blurr cried, starting to squirm around again, without much vigor.

"I don't worry about the Elite Guard with my job," he replied simply, yanking the communications officer's arms behind his back and gaining a rather satisfying yelp of surprise and pain. He switched both wrists into one hand, leaning over his prey and aiming his EMP blaster at the blue 'Bot's head.

That made him stop cold, his Spark seeming to freeze in his chest as he felt the barrel of the blaster pressing against his helm.

"P-please don't," he whimpered, his struggling ceased. The 'Con above him snickered, his grip still tight on his wrists. "I-I won't go to the Elite Guard and I won't report you and i-if you l-let me go I w-won't mention it ever to anyone or—"

"Didn't I say—" He pushed the barrel harder against his helm, making him squeak in fear, "—Keep your mouth shut?"

There was no response from the trembling 'Bot, and he would have been satisfied with that had it been for the lack of a reply. "Well?"

After a pause, there was a faint nod of the head, the blue optics shuttered tightly, trying to hide the coolant that was beginning to leak from their processors.

"Good. Now get up," he said, standing and yanking Blurr to his feet, still holding his arms tightly. He pressed the EMP blaster right up against Blurr's left thigh, giving him a chance to gasp quietly. "Shut your vocalizer off."

He opened the blaster full-power, Nanokliks after his order had been carried out.

A silent scream rocked the frame of the small 'Bot in his grasp, and he almost felt pity for the unfortunate officer.

Almost.

He quickly did the same thing with Blurr's right leg, another shriek going unheard before he retracted his weapon and released his arms as a test.

Blurr's legs buckled numbly and he fell back, just enough to get caught by the hunter who smirked, pleased with his work.

Blurr switched his vocalizer on, breathing raggedly, thickly, the coolant in his eyes slipping down his cheeks.

"Now, you'll think twice about running away, won't you?" he mumbled, lifting the 'Bot back to his feet and holding him there as he called his ship back.

It landed near them a few Cycles later, the coolant having dried on Blurr's cheeks, his eyes cold and smoldering with sheer hatred now as he glared bloody murder at his captor.

"Ah, now don't be that way." He smirked, carrying Blurr to the ship and walking in, unheeding of the slight twitch of feeling that had come to the blue 'Bot's legs. "You won't be here much longer if you cooperate."

Blurr resisted the urge to snap at him, keeping his vocalizer good and offline. He quickly scanned the hallways he was led through, noting all the turns and doorways they passed until they arrived in what appeared to be the bounty hunter's room.

"Here you go, your own little bed," he murmured, laying Blurr on the metal table with an amused chuckle. He strapped the 'Bot's wrists above his head, his ankles below him, gaining a slight flinch of pain with the latter.

"_Incoming transmission_."

He frowned, tilting his head before saying, "One sided video, receive. Patch them through."

The screen lit up, and he glanced at it, shuttering his optics a few times at the unexpected Autobot that appeared on his screen.

He thought fast and quickly matched the name to the face; Landmine.

"Lockdown?" The Autobot seemed annoyed that only he was transmitting a signal, but he didn't complain about it.

Almost absently, the 'Con in question clamped a hand over the mouth that Blurr had just opened, ready to cry out for help no doubt. "Yes, Landmine?"

A flicker of surprise crossed the 'Bot's optics before he brushed it off, hurrying into the point of his call. "I have a job for you."

Now thoroughly intrigued, Lockdown grasped a rag and removed his hand from Blurr's mouth just long enough to stuff the rag into his mouth, grabbing some tape and wrapping it around his mouth and head, securing it much to the 'Bot's horror.

He turned Blurr's table around, facing him away from the wall, before walking to the main computer and typing in a command.

His face appeared next to Landmine's in a small window, and he smirked at the startled expression on the Autobot's face. Ignoring it, he asked, "Why is an Autobot coming to a Decepticon bounty hunter for help?" he asked, leaning on his keypads interestedly.

Fidgeting, seeming uncomfortably, Landmine muttered, "I don't need _your_ help, I'm just choosing you."

"Oh," Lockdown said with a smirk, "That changes everything. Then, why is an Autobot coming to me for help _of his own free will_?"

He was getting thoroughly amused by the 'Bot's discomfort of the situation, but couldn't help his curiosity. He wanted to honestly know why this Autobot was coming to him.

"Will you take the job or not?" Landmine abruptly barked, obviously getting sick of Lockdown's playing with him.

Frowning inside, smirking outside, he finally said, "Yeah, sure. What do you want?"

"I want you to capture someone," he replied. The sound of voices filled the speakers and Landmine glanced back sharply, typing something before a file was suddenly sent.

Lockdown opened it under a safe code, scanning it for possible viruses before letting it download.

"Coming to me of their own free will, possibly against orders or without permission," Lockdown mused after the file finished transferring. He'd kept his optics on Landmine the whole time, watching as he twitched and glanced over his shoulder at almost every interval.

Scowling, Landmine just snapped, "Capture him, and keep him alive, and I promise your pay will be worth it."

_Now_ he was more than intrigued; he was nearly ecstatic. But he hid it, instead arching an optic bridge and inquiring, "Oh?"

"Windsheer's pressure launcher missile," Landmine clarified, sending another file. Lockdown didn't need it, declining it, his Spark twitching with glee.

He'd seen the Decepticon Windsheer once before, and he'd wanted that missile launcher ever since. He'd been willing to kill the 'Con for it, but when he'd heard that the warrior had been felled by another, then reverse-engineered for his parts, he'd let go of his obsession.

Now, though…

"Tell me, who defeated Windsheer anyways?" he asked, sounding uninterested.

"I did," Landmine snapped, and Lockdown smirked with an indifferent shrug. "Just get him… and I'll give you the missile launcher. Alright?"

"But of course," Lockdown said, chuckling as he shut the communication line without further a due.

He turned and walked back to the table, twirling it around so he could once more face the shocked and terrified expression of Blurr. "Bet you didn't expect one of your wonderful Autobot's to call _me_ for a job, did you now?" he asked, amused, as the small 'Bot struggled against his bonds, shuttering his optics tightly as he gave muffled cries around his gag.

Dismissing him for the moment, Lockdown moved to the computer, pulling up the file of his apparent new target.

"… Swindle," Lockdown murmured, smirking. "… This will be fun."

* * *

**Surprise!**

Yes, my first post. It feels good to get something down.

It took me forever to find some Betas to look this over for me, and I'm relieved that I found one that I know. I found Jazz ( http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/1376983/ ) on iScribble(dot)net, the second place I went to search for a random stranger who liked Transformers. And my friend Windy, who I only recently found out has loved Transformers for a long while. Thanks guys!

Anyways, I hope this delivers for all the time it took me to post. Enjoy!

-_Sycophantism._


	2. Glitch Head

The ship was quiet as Swindle slipped out of recharge, his purple optics flickering on. He pushed himself into a sitting position, glancing down at the narrow bench he'd used to hold himself up as he took a long, very deserved rest.

He sighed quietly and glanced up at the small screen that was lowered from the roof, gazing at the schematic outline that gave a short diagram of their location. From the Ark, where he had been brought and trialed after being captured, they were one-quarter of the way to the small planet called Earth, where he would apparently be residing until… well, he didn't know that much yet.

After asking a dozen still unanswered questions, Swindle had given up on trying to get Soundwave to tell him about his current situation, and had decided on going into recharge for a while to pass the time, as well as to gather his energy and his wits.

Now, as he pushed himself to his feet, he felt fully energized and ready to take on even the toughest Autobot warrior. He looked down at his right arm and lifted it, flexing the joints experimentally before clenching his fist tightly. The activation-motion caused the small armor-plates on his forearm to rise and slide to the side, a metallic gun rising from the revealed mechanism.

It took a little extra encouragement from his hardware, but the small lights along the barrel of the gun lit up to the same color as his optics, purple. A thin strip over the top, one down each of the four 'legs' that kept it attached to his arm, and the lips of the barrel.

He sighed quietly and reached down, rubbing the slightly dusty weapon with a smile. They had been locked up for the past few Orbital Cycles while he was a prisoner to those damned Autobots, but now that he could get them out, it felt much better. He was a bit worried about how he would replace those weapons that had been taken from him, but didn't linger on the past. He'd build stronger, better weapons. Simple as that.

"Sleep well, _Swindle_?" a voice purred from behind, making him jump and spin around, only to come optics-to-optic with Ravage.

The feline cassette had lain himself out on the baggage-storing area above the bench that Swindle had decided to lie himself on. He had his forepaws crossed, the ends dangling over the edge as he smirked at the other Decepticon. His tail swayed back and forth behind him as he shuttered his optic once only to open it again and tilt his head and ask innocently, "Did I startle you?"

"Hardly," Swindle huffed, his optics glancing at the bench where he last remembered Rumble and Frenzy being. Finding it empty, he returned his gaze to the baggage-area, only to find it also empty.

Frowning, he stepped back from it and glanced around, spotting the feline half in and half out of the doorway moving into the control room. "Coming, oh brave one?" Ravage asked with infuriating finesse before slipping into the room and out of sight.

If just to spite the cocky Decepticon, Swindle remained where he was, looking around the passenger area of the ship. Soundwave hadn't been cheap when he chose the escape vehicle, Swindle noticed as he walked in the opposite direction of the cock pit, towards the back of the ship.

Placing a palm on the wall, he followed it to the door that stood at the other end of the room, pausing to look above it. A small screen, unlit, stood above it, with the Decepticon symbol standing dimly out on it. He shook his head a bit, but found his other hand lifting a bit to touch the same symbol on his chest.

"-_You'll find several well-tune weapons past that door_-," Soundwave's voice broke into his comm. link, making him jump a bit. "- _You may disassemble and convert them in any way you see fit to replace the weapons taken from you during your… stay with the Autobots_-."

He frowned a bit at being spied on, but said nothing, the hand on his chassis moving to touch the center of the door. The symbol above it lit up before the door itself slid to the side, making him pull his hand back before it got crushed in the mechanisms.

True to the Decepticon Lieutenant's words, the two walls were lined with shelves, which in turn were completely filled with enough fire power to take down the Elite Guard, if in the right hands.

Which, at the moment the doors opened, they were. His Spark tugged lightly in appreciation at the professional build of all the weapons, he took an unconscious step forward, his optics running along the shelves almost hungrily.

"Need company?" a voice asked almost smugly, Frenzy walking up to stand next to the swindler with, indeed, a superior grin.

"If you're willing to help and know what'll blow your circuits if you touch it," he replied with a faint chuckle, "Sure." He walked down the long hall in silence, the small cassette following alongside him with quiet running sounds.

He stopped at one shelf, pausing to gaze appreciatively at the weapon he had stopped at. A very complicated mechanism that attached it to the main hard drive of a 'Con was what activated the weapon, needing no motions other than a thought. The main fire power came from the sonic boom it produced with the flick of a button, the levels interchanging from stun to temporary Stasis Lock.

He picked the weapon up off the shelf carefully before turning, setting it lightly on the ground. "Take the main armor off of this," he instructed the waiting 'Con, "and be careful of the conic thrusters. They're sensitive to motion touch."

Without a word, the mech nodded and began working quickly, his claws prying under the bolts armor before spinning to change for a screwdriver, pushing it into the object holding the armor down and spinning it out at minimum 500 Rotations-Per-Second.

The first panel was off before Swindle was done standing, the second one half finished as he started off down the hall once more. He couldn't find a single reason to complain about the hallway, all the weapons being completely adequate and capable of everything and anything he could come up with.

He was almost giddy with the schematics racing through his servos, the blueprints he would either mark down or work with by memory. Either way, the weapons he would be creating would be simply amazing.

As usual.

He stopped once more, picking up a large canon which, upon further inspection of the machine, could produce pyrotechnical, cryonic, and gravitational shots that would easily put any Cybertronian into Stasis Lock in a matter of cycles. A single blast of the extreme heat from the pyro setting, the dramatic change of temperature that would follow the cryo shot, and finally the supreme pressure caused by the gravity setting would knock any mech into Stasis Lock.

Of course, one would have to know how to do such a thing before attempting to use this complicated, wonderful piece of technology.

Or, in this case, take it apart.

Swindle ran his optics up and down the hall a few times appreciatively, fingering the weapon in his hand. This, he thought, was going to be a wonderful trip that would be over far too soon.

~Transition~

"The information you're demanding of me is for Autobot Elite Guard audio receivers only, and I can assure you I'm not a traitor so you won't be getting the information out of _this_ 'Bot anytime soon! Now comes my won questions of who it is hired you to captured me and ask these ridiculous questions instead of just using your double agent to figure it out, because I assure you I know that there is one as everyone at the Guard will as well and now I'm starting to wonder if it wasn't this double agent that hired you and told you to come after me in case I was correct in my assumptions that it was him and that perhaps he was worried that I knew who it was and that if this information was passed on to Ultra Magnus he would be destroyed before he could summon the Decepticons in whatever horrible plan they have against the innocent Autobots and Neutrals of Cybertro--!"

Pushing his hand back against the blue 'Bot's mouth, Lockdown shook his head wearily, his optics shuttering as he tired to think of a way to slow the officer down without damaging his memory logs. Nothing came to mind.

"So let me get this straight," he said, removing his hand to a sling of words that would have refreshed the former rant before he covered the mouth once more. "You think that there's a Decepticon double agent in the Elite Guard?"

He let a smirk play over his expression as the defiance in the 'Bot's optics grew harder. "That's ridiculous. C'mon kid, which 'Con would be dumb enough to try and infiltrate them from the inside out?"

Almost reluctantly, he removed his hand to yet another tirade from the small chatterbox. He barely caught the entire thing at the speed the young 'Bot was talking, but he managed to catch enough to hear the reluctant admittance that the question was a good one, not to mention that the Decepticon would have to be, not only sneaky, but trusted by Megatron not to change sides…

"So who do you think would do it?" Lockdown said idly, amused as for once, Blurr snapped his own jaw shut and remained stonily silent. "Come on kid, you know my job. I'm trained to get the ones who _don't_ like to talk to spill their processors; you're a talkative one, so it would be like taking Energon from a protoform."

"I can assure you that I can have my own times where loyalty and common sense overcome my quick speech," Blurr said, sounding offended that Lockdown would think otherwise. "And besides, the answer to the question that you've posed is also information that should only be reported to the Elite Guard after I've told my superior about the suspicions that I have and who I believe may be the spy stealing information and selling it if not giving it freely to the Decepticons—"

Once more, he was forced to lay a hand over the Autobot's mouth, sighing with a shake of his head. "Do you ever shut up, kid?"

There was a thoughtful pause before Blurr's shoulder plates rose in a shrug, his optics, for once, losing their defiant anger in replace with incredulity and question. Lockdown accepted the quiet with grace, walking over to his shelves of "trophies" and starting to sort through, humming quietly to himself.

Blurr craned his neck to try and see, optic ridges slanting back a bit in unease. "What are you doing over there, and what are those things anyways, I recognize some of those! Some of those aren't yours, why do you have Elite Guard property in this ship, in this room on those shelves, you stole them didn't you those are—"

"My trophies," Lockdown cut in, selecting one before padding over, seeing the sickness fall over the Autobot before he had even reached his side. "Ah; you're familiar with this?"

"Th-that machine was banned, it was far too destructive and it had so many glitches that nobody could work out and besides it was too much like the Decepticons, too hurtful and—"

"I'll use it on you." Blurr shut up sharply, optics widening as he stared at the virus-inducing jacks all over the machine.

"You—"

"I'll give you the worst virus, too," Lockdown mused, tossing it up before catching it in his grasp, optics zeroing in on Blurr's frame as it shivered once. "Unless you talk."

"I've been talking the whole time you kept me here, against my will I might add, in fact I don't think I stopped talking except for the times you so rudely covered my mouth or that one moment that you shoved a rag into my mouth, which I can assure you I did not appreciate in the least! Don't Decepticons even have standards?"

"Unless you tell me what I want to know," Lockdown clarified, getting exasperated with his failed attempts at unnerving the speedster. "Now, tell me; are you going to talk--… tell me what I want to know?"

"I already stated that doing so would only produce more trouble than it's worth and besides I have yet to hear any reasons that this information would do you any good, and— Hey, what are you doing there, don't touch my helm!"

The field-agent continued his tirade of words as Lockdown fingered the catches on his helm, soon snapping open one compartment, revealing several of his interface jacks. The twitch that came from the small Autobot contented Lockdown that he knew what was revealed, and the silence that followed gave him reassurance that his fear was bubbling up to the surface once more.

Once he plugged one of the machine's cords in, though, the smaller mech immediately cried out, "What are you doing, that's dangerous, what if it turns on or the battery jumps if that happens I'm gonna—my processor will—the program—"

"It'll either kick you into Stasis Lock after a few Megacycles of torment and agony, or offline you in a nanoclick." Blurr's frightened silence made Lockdown smirk and, slowly, he plugged another wire in. The whimper that Blurr issued was enough for Lockdown. "Now… are you going to tell me what information you've gathered?"

"Th-that information is—"

"Classified," Lockdown sighed, plugging another in with a visual flinch from Blurr. "Don't I know it."

"B-but if you'd stop doing that and I could think properly and process the information then m-maybe I could… think of a way to… im- improvise…?" Blurr offered breathlessly, optics wide.

Lockdown paused thoughtfully, looking down at the trembling frame of the Autobot Elite Guard in his custody. "Hm… Well," he said with exaggerated reluctance, "I suppose that's better than anything."

As he pulled the wires out of Blurr's jacks, he set the machine down so he could grab the others.

The 'Bot below him suddenly went rigid and he shuttered his optics in surprise before a loud cry issued from Blurr's vocalizers. He took an automatic step back, his processor going through possible circumstances before he suddenly looked at the machine.

The screen was glowing a bright blue, and he cursed, his hand flying out and wrapping around the wires in Blurr's interface jacks.

He gave a tug, and uttered a startled sound as they remained stoic, stuck in Blurr's head jacks. The wires abruptly sprouted several small, arachnid-like legs, and stabbed them into the sensitive metal around the jacks, dragging another pained cry from their target.

Lockdown grimaced angrily, grabbing the machine and sliding through the options, looking for the Off button. When none could be found, he grabbed the source of the wires, giving a hard yank in an attempt to pull them out.

When even that failed, he felt a trickle of unease leak into his processor. He wouldn't be able to get the information needed, and any of the trophies he'd been looking forward to taking from the speedster would be damaged, probably beyond repair, by the virus that the machine was more than likely uploading.

"Violet-galaxy-milky way-Mars-internet-tube-faceboo-ebay-world wide-autumn-eat-diamonds-rain fores-astronom-conspiracy-governmen-federal beuro-CIA-movie-buy now-sale-Wall Mar-televis—"

Words began to stream out of the 'Bot in quick succession, and try as he might with half a processor, Lockdown couldn't make sense of any of it. He finally resorted to a final… well, resort, and slammed his fist down on the machine with a touch of reluctance.

It sparked under his hand, and he gave a start of surprise before electricity coursed through his frame, making him grunt quietly in pain as he stumbled back a step. His leg joints suddenly failed and went offline, pitching him backwards to land on his aft, his entire frame vibrating with the shock.

Blurr abruptly shrieked, his hands yanking their restraints taut as he arched off the table, his helm crashing into the table behind him as he shook violently.

Blue spark of electricity suddenly jumped off the Elite Guard, racing across the ground and into as many sockets as they could. His screens began to flash, dragging up files before deleting him, but to his shock and anger.

Almost as suddenly as it started, it ended. The lights on his ship blew out, showering him with glass. His screens turned red, black, and then shattered inwards, damaging anything that might've survive initially. Darkness fell over the entire ship, and he remained silent for a long while. The only sounds that remained were the slight tinkling of glass still falling, and the Autobot's ragged panting.

He finally gave a low sigh as he pushed himself to his feet, his joints coming to life as he checked to make sure no permanent damage was done. He heard the venting breath of the speedster catch as glass crunched under his foot, and he said lightly, "Just me, kid."

Blurr whimpered, and he heard the 'Bot slump in his table once more. There was a long silence before he mumbled, "Sentinel."

Lockdown blinked in surprise, pausing from his walk towards the main computer. "What's that?"

"My initial suspicions were of Sentinel Prime, that maybe he was the Decepticon spy, because he could have framed Wasp when he was training them in the boot camp to easily avoid suspicion on himself, and used the other Autobot trainee to avoid suspicion coming to himself once more as being the one to find him, so he would be perfectly clean and… H-he acts so cocky and so unlike Shockwave so I had thought perhaps he was using the cover of his complete opposite personality to work under Ultra Magnus, and he would be able to take over as the new Magnus should anything happen to Ultra Magnus either by his own hands or the simple fate of the… the universe…"

Lockdown was silent for a long while, and he heard Blurr breathing shakily behind him. Finally, he finished his way to the computer and felt his way to the wall, flicking a switch. The backup lights flickered to life, casting a dim, red glow over the room. There was a long silence as he crouched and began to salvage what he could of his computer's processor.

His fingers brushed along a small button and, curious, he lifted it. He could see from the color and symbol that it was the button that kept Blurr locked to the table. With a faint smirk, he let his optics follow the wire attached to the back of the button, and saw that it was, indeed, in tact.

His thumb hovered over the button, and he paused, reluctant to let his prey go without getting a trophy from him. He never let a prisoner leave without taking something…

So this time, he would take an IOU.

He punched the button down with his thumb, and heard the sharp intake of breath as Blurr's restraints suddenly left him. Feigning curiosity as to what had happened, he glanced back. His optics met Blurr's wide ones; the speedster was already in the doorway, optics wide with fear, and he suddenly bolted before Lockdown could say a thing.

He smiled pleasantly to himself and stood, setting the button down calmly and turning to walk to his table, re-attaching the restrains before laying it down. He took the shattered machine, which sparked weakly, and he frowned playfully at it before tossing it over his shoulder, listening with amused satisfaction as it hit the trash duct and slid down into the abyss of his ship's basement.

~Transition~

Blurr ventilated his breath quickly as he raced down the unfamiliar halls, skidding to a stop at the first fork he found. He ran over his processor, trying to remember in his flurried panic which way Lockdown had guided him to that horrible room.

His optics quickly zeroed in on a small poster that hung over a door, and he raced down the left fork, twisting around the corner just as the directions came back to him. _Left, right, left, straight, left, left, door_.

He reversed the directions in his mind and quickly found himself at the door, the slightest sob of relief escaping him. He had recognized Lockdown's profile when the machine had given him a jump start, and damned if he wanted to become like any of the unfortunate mechs he had captured before him.

He punched the button and cursed its slowness as the door lifted, racing inside and pushing the Air Lock button. The door behind him closed slowly, and he forced his body to start the fans, his body burning hotly with panic.

He thought he heard Lockdown's feet hitting the ground as he chased him, and he gasped sharply.

The Air Lock opened, and his feet carried him outside. He expected to find an emergency escape pod, or at least open space, but neither of these were so. He raced out onto a faded purple planet, the rocks below his pedes floating slightly in the weak gravitational pull.

He skid to a stop once he was far from the ship, a good twenty breems for Lockdown to run, and collapsed onto his knees, his Spark contracting with his panic. He shuddered violently, his audio sensors turned up to high. Even though logic told him it would take Lockdown forever to reach him, he couldn't help but feel that the bounty hunter was right behind him.

What if he hadn't escaped? What if that machine hadn't overloaded the ship, what if he had been stuck there? Would Lockdown have shut him down, put him offline? Would he have let Blurr go…?

He didn't think the latter was likely, and he shivered in apprehension. Going offline…

But the machine. He inhaled sharply as he stood, his fingers moving up to his helm. He quickly shut the panel that Lockdown had opened, his digits trembling slightly as a slight spark jumped from his interface jacks to their metal.

What had happened with the machine? Had Lockdown turned it on, to make sure Blurr told the truth? And he had, damn him, he had spilled information that he should never had told anyone but Longarm and Ultra Magnus. For nobodies audio sensors than theirs, and now a Decepticon bounty hunter knew that he knew about Sentinel.

But what if it _wasn't_ Sentinel? If he had given that information, and the Decepticons used that to try and reveal Sentinel as the fake spy, as the spy had probably done with Wasp. How could he defend this, though? It had been his own suspicions that had brought this accusation on.

That _might_ bring this accusation on! Slag it, he was thinking too far ahead.

He trudged across the planet's surface, not bothering to try and identify it. Primus knew how long Lockdown had had the ship in space, or how fast they were going.

The machine… what if it had downloaded a virus?

With a shiver, Blurr quickly ran a virus scan, and found it offline. He nearly panicked, before a small announcement said that several things were offline. Such as his coolant release, his armor-locks, his facial plate, and his guns. He didn't think that Lockdown had done that, besides his weapons, so he could only assume that the overload from the machine had caused it.

He shivered and touched his helm again, barely noticing the shadow that appeared in the distance in front of him, not registering the immobile shape.

That machine had sent such horrible, painful jolts through his chassis, searing his nerves and burning their way through his wires. But the pleasure it had caused, the horrible, arousing pleasure that the pain had been, had pushed him into the fastest overload he had ever felt.

And probably the best.

He groaned quietly and shook his head, shuttering his optics in denial. That couldn't be; he'd only overloaded a few times, with a few femmes, and mostly because he had either been a tad drunk or roaringly so.

He yelped as he suddenly crashed into something and fell back onto his aft, opening his optics and blinking, staring up at the shape he had just bumped into.

The shape that was shaped suspiciously like a ship-shape.

And it looked in, excuse the pun, _ship shape_.

He jumped to his feet and grabbed the wing, his pleased surprised coursing through him like a viscous liquid had been injected into his coolant tubes.

"Primus, thank you," he whispered, his voice crackling with the oddities of a possible virus. He didn't pay it mind, noticing that his vocalizers were a bit wonky, and he circled the ship three times before finding the door.

He stepped inside and called out hesitantly, "Hello?" He didn't expect a reply, and he didn't get one. The ship looked to have been here for several Solar Cycles, if not a full Vorn or two.

He made his way through the small single, maybe double, ship, and sat in the chair provided. His digits flew over the keypads, and it was all he could do to keep himself from jumping for joy when everything came online.

"Fuel's full, oil's fine, rockets are online… this ship is in perfect shape, Primus, thank you, thank you…"

He quickly checked the maps and destination coordinates and found them, shockingly, damaged. But he didn't have time to worry about that, he could get this ship into space and fix it when he was far, far away from Lockdown.

"Thank you," Blurr murmured again, and he almost kissed the dashboard.

~Transition~

"Probably one of my best inventions of yet! Not only has it modified one of my older, obsolete weapons, but it uses several of the highest-quality plasma guns and Stasis-knocks to mark!"

Swindle couldn't help but gloat as he showed off his new creation, a big dumb grin plastered on his faceplates.

"Just tell me what it does, Swindle," Soundwave sighed over the video-feed that was coming in over the ship's computer.

"Oh, let him have his fun," Ravage purred, circling around Swindle's feet with a smirk. "He just escaped the most humiliating defeat a Decepticon could undergo," he added, voice dripping with sarcasm like acid, making Swindle glare before returning his optics to his main focus, his new creation not giving him a chance to feel bitterness towards the cassette.

"By using Elite Guard honing technology, silent echoes are sent out and, when Cybertronian readings are picked up, identical echoes are sent back to the weapon to help in lock onto its target. Continuous echoes are sent out so it keeps the target in place, and using Artificial Intelligence programming, the radar calculates the trajectory of the target and makes an estimated guess at where it will be by the time the next echo is sent out."

"Wait," Rumble cut in, looking at him critically. "So… it _guesses_ where the Autobot will be so it doesn't lose it?"

"Yes," Swindle said, not at all irked at being disturbed. He really was proud about this particular creation. "Using the same echoes, the radar can scan and calculate the major weakness of the armor and base alloys that the Cybertronian's frame and weapons are made of, therefore producing the most logical settings for the weapon to be set on to the wielder of the weapon, for the most damage."

"So it figures out its weakness while tracking it," Frenzy piped up, and Swindle nodded once more, knowing that the cassette had already known; he had suggested the screen to tell the wielder, after all. Smart little bugger.

"After this, the Decepticon—well, the mech using the weapon—then punches in the settings, choosing for himself whether or not to follow the machine's suggestion, as he may not be looking to completely obliterate his target, and then… bam! Pull the trigger and you have some fireworks! Painful variety."

"How many different combinations of charge are there?" Soundwave asked, seeming a bit interested in the weapon. It _was_ quite elite, if he did say so himself.

Practically preening, Swindle replied, "Over ten thousand. By changing the intensity of one of the three settings, making it stronger or weaker, and combining it with the altered intensities of the other two, you can produce thousands, slag, _millions_ of different combinations!"

He shared a short glance from Frenzy, who grinned and gave him a thumbs up. He didn't quite understand the motion, or how it came to be, but the small cassette had noticed his confusion and explained the odd Earth action of approval.

"And now we come to the least favorable part of this transaction," Soundwave said, sounding grim. "What is your price, Swindle?"

"Oh, Soundwave, you offend me!" the deceiver said with mock hurt, before grinning at Soundwave's disbelieving, chiding look. "Because of the help your subordinate gave me," he continued, waving a hand dismissively, "I'll instead ask for a favor."

"And what might that be?" Soundwave asked suspiciously, frowning.

"I'll _give_ you this weapon," Swindle said with a grin, "If I may take a few of the weapons from the back room to replace some of my confiscated ones."

"That seems unusually generous of you, Swindle," Soundwave said, not yet prepared to trust his seller. Not quite yet.

"Well," Swindle said, tapping his chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "There was one other thing I was thinking I might need later on…"

"What is it Swindle?" Soundwave sighed, getting impatient.

Not wanting to lose his buyer, Swindle quickly named his prices.

"No." Soundwave left no room for argument, even as Swindle gave a sound of protest.

Frenzy tilted his head and looked up at his captain, inquiring, "Why not?"

"Why not?" Rumble snapped, putting an arm protectively around his mate. Swindle had learned of their coupling while he worked with the other on the weapon. "Because who knows what this slagger will do with you!"

"I resent that," Swindle protested, feeling just a touch of honest offence at the cassette's blunt distrust of him. He'd worked with Frenzy for nearly a megacycle, and suddenly his request seemed devious in the eyes of his mate?

"I don't give a slag," Rumble snarled, his grip on Frenzy's shoulder tightening. "He's not going to work for you."

"I never said that," Swindle sighed. "I said I may need some assistance at a later date with some blueprints that I'm sure Frenzy's unused expertise may help in."

"I've already said no," Soundwave said, suddenly returning to the conversation with his cool refusal. "Frenzy is far too busy as it is, and I will not place any of my cassettes under your control for any time, Swindle."

"Then don't," Swindle said. For once, he was being honest; he didn't want Frenzy for anything more than helping him to build a few things that had been flitting around in the back of his processor for Primus knew how long, but he'd never been able to get them out because of the smaller frame he'd need to connect certain things…

"Send him to me whenever it is convenient for you," Swindle continued, "And don't bother to put him under my command. Make it like a… a vacation for him. I won't make him do anything; he can refuse any work he doesn't want to do."

"A vacation?" Ravage huffed, giving a grin that almost look like a sneer. "We don't get vacations, swindler. We're soldiers."

"Then displaced work," Swindle said, becoming exasperated. "It would profit for all of us in the end, if you would actually let it run by your processors."

There was a stony silence, and it didn't take long for it to become quite uncomfortable. The cassettes were all sharing uneasy glances, save for Frenzy who looked up at Soundwave patiently.

"What is your input here, Frenzy?" Soundwave finally asked, his voice as monotone as usual.

"I wouldn't mind helping Swindle with more of his creations," Frenzy replied surely, getting a startled look from his mate. Frowning, he tilted his head and stared up at Rumble before snapping, "What?"

"… Guess you didn't really know what you were getting into, did you, Rumble?" Ravage asked and, cackling, he jumped up onto the bench to avoid the sawblade that was thrown at him by Frenzy, snickering as he slunk out of the cockpit of the ship.

"… Then, we have a deal," Soundwave said, and Swindle silently cheered, grinning widely on the outside.

"Great! Awesome!" he said, rubbing his hands together. "You won't regret this, Soundwave!"

"Don't make it," he said, suddenly threatening, and Swindle faltered slightly. "Because if you do, _you'll_ the one who will pay." Almost as an absent comment, he added, "Rumble. Frenzy. Ravage," before shutting the link down.

Frowning with slight nerves, Swindle mulled over his lack of adding his signature, _Pleasure doing business with you!_ quote at the end of the interaction.

He sighed and shrugged, trying to get it off his processor as he turned, his optic straying over the weapon he (and Frenzy) had created.

He walked over and picked the hefty weapon up with the trace of a smirk on his face. He always loved when a good creation came together.

Silently, he opened his chestplate and pulled out a small section, letting the gun fall into the Transwarp field located there. He checked to make sure it made it to his own personal safe-lock location.

"What kind of inventions?"

Swindle glanced down to find Frenzy staring up at him, his mate apparently having left in disgust at his bottom's choice.

Grinning, Swindle replied, "Shall we go look at the blueprints?"

Frenzy gave a little snicker, and the cracked sound that followed made Swindle's grin waver slightly. He wasn't quite sure if this 'Con's processor was working at 100% capability… but he was still useful.

And that was all that mattered to the selfish Decepticon at that point.

"Let's go."

* * *

Sorry it took so long to update, guys! Writer's Block is a bitch, ain't it?

Anyways, if you're following me on Deviant Art, you'd have gotten this on Monday... The only reason being that wasn't working all week. I tried to get it to you sooner but, I'm sorry D:

Anyways, there's nothing to say today. My only Beta this time was Hannah, but this is the un-Beta'd version. She didn't find any typo's on her scour through it, so I thought it suitable enough to put up for you patient little loves.

-_Sycotic_.


End file.
